Bringing heaven
by tdkigha
Summary: Jack Sparrow wakes up several times in his cabin one late night. Is it just the rum? Or is something, or someone, trying to contact him...? Song: Nan's song by Robbie Williams
1. Cold Breeze

_You said when you'd die that you'd walk with me everyday  
And I'd start to cry and say please don't talk that way  
With the blink of an eye the Lord came and asked you to leave  
You went to a better place but He stole you away from me_

He suddenly opened his eyes. It was like someone called him, whispered his name in the soft cold wind. The cabin was all dark, and he could see that nothing had changed since he had blowed out the lantern and the candles. It was late, just a couple of hours after midnight. He listened, paid special attention to the wind. But it was all still, just the usual sounds of the ship filling the clear nightair. The wood creaked against the gentle surface of the water; the old black sails danced/fluttered briefly in the wind and swished against the mast.

It was all calm, just as calm as every night in the Caribbean. If he focused he could hear his crew sleep deeply beneath the upper deck, dreaming of treasures, rum and the whores of Tortuga. The two men that were guarding for eventual enemies (the East India Trading Company) seemed to snore ryhthmicallyand made the sound of the sleeping night complete.

He twitched his eyebrows. Why had he wokenup? Lying on his stomach, he reached down the floor with his right arm. He muttered when he did not find what he was searching for, like a small child. Then he felt a thin, cold neck of glass belonging to a bottle. Relieved he lifted it up with tired, warm muscles and put the opening against his mouth. Slowly he turned the bottle upside-down, closed his eyes and soon felt the warming liquid pour down his throat. The heat spred throughout his entire body and made a sleepy feeling sweep through him. His eyelids became heavier, and he almost did not get to put the bottle down until he had fallen asleep again.

**_ooo_**

The full moon made its way through the open door into the cabin, and the strong light that hit the floor disturbed the captain in his drunken sleep. Muttering he turned away from the brightness, pressed his body against the wall and closed his eyes tight. He did not thinkof the door being slid open, nor notice thatthe night-sound that he had listened to so eagerly minutes before had changed. He did not even notice that the wind breezing over the seacradling him and the crew to sleep stopped, andthat its soft whispering was suddenly congested.

The only thing he first noticed was the sudden cold that crept beneath his blanket and into his bones. He almost immediately started to shiver, which irritated him and made him pull the felt quilt closer. But the chill would not disappear, and the moonlight shone even brighter than before.

Then suddenly, it faded. He was just about to relax and go back to sleep, when he heard soft steps at the old wood of the deck right outside his door. He sighed heavily, almost in a dreaming-state:

**"**Gibbs, ye damn fool – go back to bed!**" **

He buried himself into the chilly embrace of his sheets, and almost thought that whoever it was had given up when the soft steps continued. The sleepy anger inside of him grew, and he forced himself to turn over and sit up. He was just about to pull the blanket away, when he heard the whispering sound. The long, quiet and breathless reverberation that he thought he had heard before. He did not make a move, waiting to hear it again.

When the silence remained, he suddenly noticed all those things he had not noticed just a couple of seconds ago. The snores, the wind, the sea… He frowned.

"What the…"

_"Jack."_

He almost jumped out of his bed by the very noise. His heart beat so hard in his chest that he could almost hear it, like with Davy Jones'. _Thump-thump, thump-thump. _It felt like it was about to burst from his body,just like his eyes.

_That voice._ That soft, delicate voice that had always made him shiver. That trembling mouth that had spoken his name, formed it with those light pink lips. Only _she_ could say his name like that.

But then he came to other thoughts, trying to ignore the steps and the noise he "thought himself to have heard".What could possiblymake her walking his ship, in the middle of the night, all alive and dare to wake him up like this?

" It's the bloody rum, ye ole dog", he murmured and setthe bottle down the floor a cursing look. "Makes ye think things ye don't actually think. Must've been a bad year…"

Enough time passed to make him believe that he had imagined the entire thing, except for those damn steps that never stopped. But his heart did not stop beating that heavily, and the shivers would not end wheneverhe tried to calm himself. His head wastoo heavy to keep up, and his eyes were protesting. His tired and aching body needed, wanted and therefore demanded sleep. He took a deep breath and lifted the blanket away.

"Go to bed Cotton, ye ole scallywag!" he shouted, swinging and staggering towards the door. He closed it as hard and definite as he could in his half-awake, confused and upset state. Muttering curses over his darned men he returned back to his kip, falling asleep on his stomach for the third time that night.

_And now you live in heaven  
But i know they let you out to take care of me_

**_ooo_**

A cold breeze caressedhis face, bringing him slowly back to reality again. At first, before hetruly awoke, he wondered why the hell he could not be left alone. For the fourth time he woke up in his cabin, drawnback from his pleasant sleep and deep dreams of golden, shiny treasures.

That was his first thought. But when he slowly opened his eyes, he could not be sure if he was still dreaming. His field of vision was covered in light, bright as the full moon and the glimmering stars upon the black night sky. After a couple of seconds, he could discern thin and light straws of hair. In the moonlight it was light blue, but he knew the true colour – of gold.

He smiled. Finally he had fallen asleep for real; finally he was in sweet dreams of beauty and happiness.

Then he felt something all near his face, a cold breath that did not own a scent. The sight became clearer for him, and the brightness faded. Suddenly he saw a pale face just a couple of millimetres above his own. He recognized it, oh _if_ he did recognize it. The shape of the nose, the rounded lips and the eyelashes flutteringfast and spirited.

This surely was not a bad dream.

He closed his eyes with the thought of never waking up again. He could spend his entire life dreaming like this. And when he opened his eyes next time, he would…

That was his second thought, but he did not get any further before his mind raced for the third; something touched his mouth, but not as cold and hard as a rum bottle or rough and wet like the ocean. It was soft and warm, stroking against his sleepy lips. He slowly opened his eyes a couple of inches, just so he was able to see what was going on. His next thoughts vanquished when he felta nose pressing gently against his own, and all he saw was smooth and almost white skin. He could feel eyelashes kissinghis cheek, and hair falling down and tickle his chin.

_Oh, not to bad _… he thought, pleased with his dream so far.

The mouth that was slowly rubbing in opposition to his pressed a bit harder, but he did not make a movement. He was terriblytired and the treatment was so… comfortable. He could feel thin breaths coming from the small nose, letting go of air that air that warmed his soul.

Suddenly he felt something sliding into his mouth. Slowly it pressed itself between his lips, stroking over his teeth. He frowned, feeling the sleepy sensation fade and the world around him seemed to clear.Therewas something different about this, or maybe not… He was not sure, not until he thought that it would retreat out of his mouth – but instead it pushed further in. Automatically, he raised his tongue and met it halfway.

It felt like a hit in his stomach.

His eyes flew wide-opened, and he tried to shake her off and sit up. But it seemed he was unable to move the rest of his body, his hands and arms were tightly attached in the mattress along his sides and his legs appeared to have lost its mobility. He tried to press her tongue out of his mouth, struggled to make her stop but he was frozenand she kept on caressing him with her mouth.

He panicked. The touch, the warmth, the softsweet taste. His heart beat so hard he could barely breathe. The memories flashed through his mind, everything that he had tried to forget this past three months stung him like a thousand knifes.

_No, it has to be a dream!_ he thought, trying to calm himself._ A nightmare. Of course it is, it's all up in me head! It's the rum, that bloody rum… _

He told himself those words over and over again, but his heart kept hammering against his chest like a caged bird. Her tongue wandered and explored his entire mouth, caressing and tasting every bit of it. It sent shivers down his spine, but the fear was stronger than the feeling and need of returning the kiss.

When she suddenly pulled back, he was breathless. He gasped for air, but lost it when he felt her mouth against his throat and her hands creeping over his arms. She stroked him over his chest, kissed every piece of skin at his neck with a tenderness that made him tremble through all the horror.

"Just a dream, just a dream… " he whispered breathlessly, but stopped when she undid the buttons of his shirt and let her hands slip inside. She moved her head down and kissed his bare skin, starting at the top of his chest. Then kept on undoing the buttons, and when she finishedshe slowly drewit aside from his stomach. Her hair fell heavily against his chest, and followed the movements of her head when she stuck her tongue out and teasingly lapped his nipples.

He felt her warm breath growing hotter as she kissed his stomach, around his navel and up again. He pressed his eyes closed so hard that it hurt, and buried his fingernails deep into the mattress. He could hear both her and himself panting, but somewhere in his deepest thoughts he told himself that hers were not real. That all of this was of his imagination, his fantasies. A bittersweet dream turning into a nightmare.


	2. Caressing Light

_**ooo**_

It was almost evening when he could see the green flash of lightning against the horizon. The sun was swallowed by the sea, and left a black silhouette adjacent to the darkening sky. He let the rudder to Gibbs, told him to stay put, and then left down the stair. He continued all the way to the front, pulled out his telescope and peered through it to see the contours of the Flying Dutchman. Yes, he had been right. No wonder he had had a bad feeling following him. The death-sender was not a good sign, especially for a man who had died at least one time before.

He ordered to let go the anchor and awaited the entry of the infamous ship before him. Not too long afterwardhe saw the captain standing at the helm with a troubled look on his face, meeting the kohl-lined eyes of his own. A couple of minutes later, the still young William Turner swung over to the Black Pearl and landed just a half a metre away from her captain's feet. Jack looked at him, with his arms across his chest and the golden smile flashing at his old friend.

"G'day, young master Turner", he said sharply. "What may give me the pleasure to see ye here onme own simple ship? "

The lad did not smile, he did not even correct Jack for not putting 'captain' in front of his last name. He just looked at him, arms falling along his side in a dejected manner and with eyes that reflected agony and sadness.

"Jack", he said slowly with a voice that broke so powerfuly that he almost fell down at his knees. Jack, who had never seen his mate so upset before, furrowed his eyebrows and gave him a concern look. Something was terribly wrong...

"What's the fuss, boy? Why the bloody hell are ye comin' here with yer ole death-carriage and scare the shit out of me poor soul? "

Will seemed to put himself together, because he straightened up and looked the other pirate in the eye.But Jack could still see it, the worry and the pain that was eating him up for every wandering second. He rushed towards him and shook his arms when the young man did not answer him.

"Spit it out, you stupid whelp!"

"She killed herself!" the boy shouted so sudden that Jack stopped with his shaking.

"Who?"

Will looked away, probably incapable of hiding his strong feelings. He forced Jack to let go of him, but Black Pearl's captain only grabbed his arm again.

"WHO?!" Jack roared, and he could not keep the panic away from his tone. A voice, a tiny tiny voice inside of him whispered "It's her… Me God it's her…"

"Elizabeth!" Will screamed, now with the tears running like spring rivers down his cheeks and chin. "Jack, she's dead!"

_You went to a better place but He stole you away from me_

_**ooo**_

Dead.

She moved down again, her mouth pressed so tight against his skin and her tongue caressing it so softly. She kept on, down his chest and stomach and belly button.

He trembled. He panted and his breaths were deep and shivering, he could only lie there and feel her hands travel all over him. She stroked her fingertips along the line of his pants, and without moving her mouth from his stomach she let her fingers slide down his groin outside his trousers unbearably slow. He gasped for air, feeling her hand caressing harder and harder at the sensitive skin-area.

_A nightmare. It has to be a nightmare. It _is_ a nightmare! _The words kept on repeating in his head as he tried to fight against the feeling between his legs. Her both hands travelled up again, leaving his lower parts be. Jack did barely notice it, he could only see her golden hair and feel the rush of adrenaline insidehim. It was a just a dream, she was dead. If he just waited her out, relaxed and let her be it would be over soon. It was just a delusion, a fancy.

She moved her head to lie against his shoulder, resting her cheek touching his. It was so soft and smooth at his tanned and rough skin. Silk stroking against old paper, that was what it felt like. He tried to define something, but he could still only see the golden curls and the white skin of his dream-guest. Her breath was no longer cold, and after she had breathed upon him his skin felt moistened.

"Aah, yer dead, love…" he gasped and closed his eyes once more. "Ye're not here… "

But he had not noticed that she had slipped her hand down again, over his stomach and underneath the line of his trousers. And before he could prevent it, a breathless moan left his mouth as she seized him with slow and soft fingers.

_There's a strange kind of light caressing me tonight  
Pray silence my fears, she is near  
Bringing heaven down here_

That caused a chain reaction inside of his already lightened body, and he felt the fire build up. His skin burned, and every place that she had touched himfelt almost insufferably hot. As if the fire let him free, he suddenly could move again. And even if the world around him was on fire, he could see everything perfectly clear.

Hungrily he lifted his hands to her face and pressed his lips against hers. He forced his tongue into her mouth as he grasped for her body, the desire making him insane. And she answered him, kissing him with such passion that he almost reached his climax before even acting.

_Pray silence my fears_

He could feel her warm breath, he could feel her skin and her hair. He moved his hands down her beautiful body and felt her naked breasts against his palms. She was not wearing a thing, pressing her hips at his belly and burying her nails into his tanned, rough skin. They ripped his pants off with united strength and lust, and she let her lower body slip down his stomach to settle down. Hip to hip.

_She is near_

And as she lowered and he slid inside her, all his disbelief was gone. Elizabeth was alive; she was there on top of him and turning his dream into reality. She had not killed herself, she had not died in sorrow and loneliness. She gave herself to him, right in this moment, and it was real. Every bit of it was real, their bodies moving together in one strong rhythm and their breaths following each other.

"Lizzie… Elizabeth…" he whispered, feeling her more than ever before. He kept on saying her name, repeated it over and over again as he remembered it all. Her eyes, her smile, her laugh and her voice. All these years, all these memories that kept hidden somewhere in the dark so asnot to hurt. How he had saved her from drowning, how they had been left on a desert island, how she had kissed him hard and definite just to leave him tied by the mast of the Pearl. And how they had finally told each other goodbye for real, how he had neglected her last kiss and she had run after William. Leaving him numb from the world, empty and filled at the same time.

He had somewhere, deep inside of him, honestly believed that he could have been chosenby her. He could have been the one that Elizabeth loved, and that he had loved her back. Somewhere inside that black lump for a heart that he owned was thump-thumping for someone. A person. A woman. For Elizabeth Swann, pure and alive, and that she would return to him someday.

Jack Sparrow was not an emotional man, but lying there underneath the body of his beloved Elizabeth and moving inside of her made his eyes go wet. Her hot kisses at his neck and her hands over his chest made themflowover, and all the memories that had turned into dust now came alive and made tears burn behind his eyelids.

For the first time since he was a child, tears gathered in his closed eyes and ran down his cheeks. He cried when both of them reached culmination, and he held on to her hot and tired body as they did. He breathed the scent of her hair, kissed her face and let the tears leave their source. She looked up at him, her eyes shining in the light of the moon. She blinked at him, moved her fingers up to his face and stroke the tears away. He closed his eyes as she did.

_Jack._

The whisper felt like a breeze, gentle and tepid against his chest. Still crying, he slowly opened his eyes and looked down at her.

But she was gone.

_In my darkest hour I know you are there  
Kneeling down beside me, whispering my prayer_

All the sounds of the night were back. The ocean outside sang to the crew of the Black Pearlwhosnored and mumbled in their sleep. A seabird screamed in the distance, the wind played with the flag on the top of the mast and the sails were waving in the cool night air. A light that looked different thanthe moonlight shone into the cabin, reassuring the captain that the day was on its way.

Jack stared at the ceiling, feeling the pain growstronger in his chest. Letting go of the last teardrop, he closed his eyes and reached for the quilt. He froze, both his shirt and pants laid down the floor next to the rum bottle. The sweat lingered to his skin and kept him cold, and he shivered when he pulled the quilt over his exhausted body.

He could still hear her whisper his name in the wind, he could still feel her touch and passion all over his body. It had felt so real, but even so there was nothing left now. An emptiness spread throughout his entire body, left the bittersweet feeling inside his stomach to grow and hurt. He had lost her, but he had had her. He had felt her, been inside her, felt her skin against his own.

But, even if his name was Jack Sparrow, he was not satisfied. There was more, he wanted more. And not from anyone else, only her. He had had her; she had given herself to him. But he did not want just her body, not just her lust. He wanted more than sex. It hurt, it burned.

He wanted her love.

"Goodbye, Elizabeth..." he wishpered softly underneath the quilt, felt his own breath burn.

_The next time that we meet I will bow at her feet  
And say "wasn't life sweet?"  
Then we'll prepare  
To take heaven down there_

Goodbye.


End file.
